LAWRENCE SCHWARTZ

Larry Schwartz was just 18 when he joined the Navy and was assigned to the USS Arkansas, a 118-pound "swab jockey" in the war to save the world. He was just 23 days short of his 95th birthday when he died on Saturday, March 21, at Abington Hospice at Warminster.
In between, he lived a fine and laughter-filled life.
The second of Abraham Schwartz and Betty Reveno's four sons, he grew up in Philadelphia's Germantown neighborhood. He missed his graduation from Germantown High School to join the Navy; like so many men of his generation, it was the defining experience of his youth.
On the Arkansas, he eventually was promoted to third-class petty officer. The ship took him through most of the war's campaigns, including the Normandy invasion and the battle of Iwo Jima (where his brother Paul, a Marine, also fought and was wounded.).
In later years, he would often say that "the Germans tried to kill me, the Japanese tried to kill me." But he survived.
With an accounting certificate earned under the GI Bill, he embarked on a career in advertising and sales promotion -- first at two Philadelphia makers of storm doors and windows, Weatherguard and Air Master (eventually owned by Howmet), and later at Safeguard Business Systems of Fort Washington.
To his last breath, he was funny. At work, his humor revealed itself in pranks, turns as master of ceremonies, stunts at trade shows. Once, at Chicago's McCormick Place, he staged a funeral for a competitor's windows, complete with a real coffin. An outraged official of the local undertakers association warned him not to die in Chicago, because he would never be buried there. Luckily, that would not turn out to be an issue.
Mimi Pasternak, a girl from the Bronx, met him at a resort in the Poconos. He was different, she would recall -- he made her laugh. They married in 1952, and raised three kids in homes in Roslyn, Willow Grove and Huntington Valley.
The house in Roslyn was typical, postwar construction. It cost less than $12,000, unfinished. With the help of neighbors, he built the second floor with his own hands. He was always good at building things (he and his siblings built a motorboat in his brother Mel's basement). He was good at fixing things, too, and not just with tools; friends and family often sought his counsel.
In retirement, Larry and Mimi moved into Ann's Choice in Warminster, where his extraordinarily deep voice was put to work making the announcements on the complex's cable channel. At Ann's Choice, he was elected to lead the Jewish community. This came as a surprise to someone who would often recall his bar mitzvah taking place on a Thursday, marked with a bottle of schnapps.
He loved to travel. He loved his nightly shot of Scotch (always on the rocks). He loved being accosted by people who saw him in his Arkansas cap and thanked him for his service.
Most of all, he wrote in a wartime memoir published when he was 88, he loved his "wife, children and grandchildren. The best family an old sailor could wish for." And they adored him.
He is survived by the love of his life, Mimi; brother Mel Schwartz of Marlton, N.J.; children Jerry Schwartz (and Nina Ovryn) of Westfield, N.J., Nancy Van Ness (and Billy Van Ness) of Doylestown, and Laura Angler (and Joel Angler) of Feasterville; grandchildren Rachel Brunner (and Zach Brunner), Danny Schwartz (and Heather Williamson), Daisy Van Ness, Josh Schwartz (and Jeannette Sharpless) and Benjamin Schwartz. And great-grandchildren Van and Thea Brunner, who brought joy to his last year.
Funeral arrangements are private; a celebration of his life will be held at a later date. Donations in his memory may be made to Fox Chase Cancer Center or to any other deserving cause.